Two Fingers
by L122yTorch
Summary: Kirk's two fingers linger and move on the back of his other hand, he's lost in thought and staring at his First Officer; and so begins the downfall of Spock's restraint.


The first time Jim did it, it was an accident.

They had just come off of alpha shift and headed straight to the mess for dinner. Jim looked down at his replicated food with disdain. They were two months into their five year mission and Jim could hardly sleep or eat. Maybe it was an after effect of dying…

Anyway, he sat there with his right hand encircling his left, his neglected tray cooling off to the left of his arms. Absently he had looked over to Spock. The way the planes of his face rose and fell, the smooth surface of his features, the way you could see hints of green beneath the pale skin if he stood under bright lights.

Somewhere during this visual analysis Jim had taken his first two fingers and was rubbing them absently around the golden skin on the back of his left hand.

It was as if he could feel a heat emanating from Spock, like if he just strained hard enough he might be able to hear his first commander's thoughts.

He wondered what it would be like to look into his Spock's mind. Ambassador Spock's mind was wracked with grief and angst...it felt unbearable. And when he moved towards himself in old Spock's memories there was such a warmth. Like a golden light that could suffocate you if you drank it in too fast. Simply recalling that aspect of the meld was intoxicating.

What would Jim look like in his Spock's mind? What if fate decided to rip them from the path of their 'life defining' friendship? God...Jim couldn't even think of that. When he did he felt a gripping pain in his chest, the same pain he felt as he lay dying of radiation.

Spock's lips pulled him from that thought. The way they had parted slightly, revealing a hint of snow white teeth. He had seen Spock eat and talk and try fervently to dissuade him from a thousand courses of action...he wondered if they were soft. He wondered if his skin was soft. He wondered how their faces would fit together.

Fuck...why are you thinking this? He mentally reprimanded himself, biting part of his bottom lip. The pain that radiated from the soft pink flesh pulled him back to reality.

He noticed that Spock was shifting uncomfortably, a deep mossy green blooming beneath his sculpted cheek bones. Spock's eyes were betraying his stoic face. He looked...surprised...panicked maybe?

It was then that Jim realized he had been staring at Spock…for a long time. The commander's gaze went from his eyes to his hands, where two fingers were still gingerly rubbing absent-minded circles onto the back of his hand. He ceased their movement immediately and Spock dragged his eyes back up to Jim's.

The captain gulped and snapped his gaze towards his now Delta Vega temperature food. He could feel heat burning in his cheeks, rising up his neck and nestling into his ears. His ears only turned red when he was really really...really... embarrassed.

He yanked the tray towards him and forced the replicated morsels into his mouth. He glanced around the mess hall and pretended that the food didn't make his stomach churn. He could still feel Spock's gaze still drilling into him as if it were mining his insides for some precious metal.

The cafeteria was buzzing with life. Bones sat down to his right and started going on about something. Uhura appeared next to Spock who was not directly in front of Jim, but to the right a seat or two.

The raging heat of embarrassment had begun to die down, but was being replaced with nausea. Jim hadn't eaten this much in a while and in his attempt to appear "normal," he had shoved an inordinate amount of food down his throat.

Bones looked over at Jim who was willing his dinner to stay in his stomach. "You alright Jim" You're downright green?"

He noticed the Vulcan's grip tighten around his utensils, a look of something on his face…God, his stomach hurt…he couldn't analyze Spock's face right now.

"Yeah," he lied. "I'm going to go," he said getting up and hastily retreating from the whirring mess hall.


End file.
